In The Shade Of Night's Facade, The Secrets Still Linger Here
by SashaLikaMusica
Summary: While working late one night to uncover the secret of Alison's death, the girls and Mona get a text from A telling them all to meet them in the graveyard where Alison's body is buried. Really, it all was just a game. Disclaimer: I don't own them. :P


That's Immortality, My Darlings

_You bitches want answers? Meet me in the graveyard tonight at midnight in the place that you all remember; Emily wasn't the only one robbing graves that night. Bring all evidence with you. Come alone. – A _

Emily, Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Mona had gathered once again in Spencer's barn to review the tapes of the night of Alison's death. Spencer's laptop sat humming obnoxiously on the marble countertop of the kitchen as tape after tape was inserted, played, replayed, and ejected again. All were growing slightly impatient. After about twenty successive repeats of the videos, when no more evidence could be found, Mona had thrown herself aggressively onto the sofa, venting.

"Why. _Why _does this have to be so difficult?" she had groaned, rubbing a hand over her eyes in annoyance. Spencer had huffed irritably. It had been Emily who had suggested that Mona join them for the night in hopes that some more theories could be uplifted. The idea had, so far, been met with exasperating results, and Spencer's nerves were wearing thin.

"Because it's _A, _Mona," she had snapped impatiently, slamming the lid of the laptop shut and landing herself sullenly on the edge of a counter stool. "Did you really expect when you got yourself into this that they'll just show up when you get tired and hand you a list of the answers?" Mona had shot her a glare and a scowl, black eyes narrowed angrily. She opened her mouth and was about to issue a sharp remark when Aria had held her hands up and interrupted.

"Guys, really, we need to focus," she had reminded them cautiously, stepping between them with a tired look on her face. "Fighting right now isn't getting us anywhere." Spencer had nearly replied when their phones went off, beeping, chirping, and ringing in the customary manner. After reading the ominous text, Mona gave Spencer an eyebrow raise as if to smirk, _I told you so._

It was now the middle of the night, and the five girls – laden down with stacks of tapes and journals as evidence to A's crimes – approached the dusky graveyard with caution. It was pitch black out (Aria had had sense enough to bring flashlights), and a low fog covered the ground up till their mid-thighs. As they made their way warily to the center of the graveyard, Hanna was prone to tripping on the roots of each and every tree that was spaced every several yards along the path. Finally, Emily took pity on her, and helped guide her along the way.

"Okay, so where in the fuck is this 'place that we all remember,'?" Hanna asked finally, clearly tired and short-tempered after a long night with no clear results. The other four hushed her hastily, Emily pausing in her travels to give Hanna's arm a little shake. Hanna started to speak again, but was made silent by the sound of muted, swiftly approaching footsteps. Aria quickly switched off the light.

In the deadly silence that followed, all that was to be heard was the dull sound of footsteps crunching in the dirt, growing steadily louder and closer . . . Emily squeezed Hanna's arm with a tiny, almost inaudible squeal as the sound stop a minimum of several yards away from them. All five girls held their breath, waiting, tensed and terrified at what they might see. But their ears were met with a whirring sound, a choking of a motor, and then a child's voice began to repeat the words.

_"Follow me. End up like me. Follow me. End up like me." _The girls stared at each other in horror, the same thought crossing all of their minds. It was the voice of the Ali doll in the doll shop. Their eyes all met, and their gazes widened as they turned slowly around to see . . . and then the beeping came again. Slowly, Spencer pulled her phone out of her pocket, and read the text out loud to the girls.

"'What's the matter bitches – don't like to play pretend? Too bad. This dolly never lies. – A." She looked up, her eyes rising to meet those of the rest of the girls. When her gaze connected with Mona's, she nodded, beckoning to the rest of them that they were to follow the sound. Each girl took a long, deep breath, and began.

Every few yards at a gravestone, a doll identical to the one in the shop was placed upon the marble, lit up by some electrical fixture at the base of its stand. The girls crept along carefully, studiously avoiding casting their glance at the figures by the headstones. Absolute silence reigned until the group reached a row heavily lined with trees, at which they hesitated, liquid fear seeping into their veins like fire.

"Is this . . ."

"Ali's row," Mona breathed, in response to Spencer's unfinished question. Throwing each other terrified, nervous looks, they started down the row. The dolls grew more plentiful and more frequent in spacing, until they came within sight of a place where at least twenty of the figures seemed to be grouped around a single headstone. Emily gulped. It was Ali's headstone. As they got within several yards of it, they all let out a gasp.

Inside the grave, where the body was supposed to be, was a wide, gaping hole. They stared in horror as they approached the edge, and peered over the rim into the pit. In a line they stood, all around the edge, as the animated voices of the dolls wound down, and they were left in silence as their phones bleeped one last time.

_You shouldn't be so horrified, bitches. There was nothing in that little black bag for you, anyways. I'm right here. – A _

Aria inhaled a shaky breath, her phone trembling with her hands. The others looked at her as she read the text out loud, and then continued to watch her in stunned silence for a moment before turning back to stare down into the dark, empty grave. _I'm right here. _Emily shuddered, unnerved, before something occurred to her, and a feeling of dull horror swept through her, creeping up into her chest and stomach like an infiltrating virus or some sort of deadly flu. Aria inhaled again before asking the question that they were all dreading – and avoiding.

"You guys, is it – "

"Ali?" a smooth, melodious voice finished for her. All of their girls froze where they stood, completely immobile as their shocked brains attempted to process what was going on – what they had just heard. That voice. That same sound that had so often tormented them, soothed them, riled them, and comforted them . . . was it possible? It couldn't be. And yet, when they turned around, half hoping, half dreading to see the sight before them, they gasped as the sight met their eyes.

It was Ali.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, her trademark smirk spreading slowly across her face, though this time, it almost seemed like more of a genuine smile. There she was, the same heart-shaped face, wide blue eyes, the softly curled blonde hair, shimmering in the light from the dolls and candles that had been placed carefully around the grave. So caught up had they been in the heat of the dramatic happenings and her supposed death that Ali's friends had forgotten what it was like to stand in her presence, so close to her. It struck them as they stood there that they had never truly accepted her death. She was far too alive in them, in all of them, to ever truly die.

A shocked silence seemingly lasted for ages – days, months, years, decades – _eons, millennia, _before someone – Spencer – finally spoke.

"You're supposed to be dead," she informed the girl firmly, shocked so thoroughly that she didn't think she would ever possibly recover from it all. "You're supposed to be dead, and yet – you – but you're alive. You never left, did you? Even when you were gone, it felt like you'd never really left." She was stammering – Spencer _never _stuttered – still trying to process the incredible, impossible sight before them. They all were. "Even when you were _dead_, it felt like you were still here."

Alison smiled gently, her pink, plump, bow-shaped lips curving upwards in a display of warmth that they had all missed so dearly, so terribly. And yet there was still a hint of the old Ali there, a knowing smirk behind the smile that said she'd never really changed. She smiled sincerely, her eyes sparkling behind the depth and façade of who she really was, and just for a second, if _only _for a second, they saw a hint of what used to be. She tossed her softly shining golden hair in her trademark way, flashing them a grin as she turned to walk away.

"That's immortality, my darlings."


End file.
